True North Treks

Hi Warriors, 

What an absolutely surreal experience I just came back from. This is most likely going to be another long post, because I guess that’s all I know how to do anymore. I’m going to start with a little back story and then talk all about the trek I was on. I hope you enjoy it.

What is True North Treks?

A few months ago (before grandma got sick and passed away), a breast cancer acquaintance I met in a meditation zoom posted on her instagram stories that she was going on a wilderness trek with True North Treks. True North Treks (TNT) is a nonprofit that does adventure trips in the wilderness for young adult cancer patients and their caregivers who are affected by cancer. TNT’s mission is to help those affected by cancer find direction through connection, with an emphasis on mindfulness. Obviously this was right up my alley. 

On my instagram friend’s story, she wrote that on the trek she was going dog sledding. I was completely sold and wanted to go right away. Having a retired working dog (Able) and another in training to become a working dog (Oliver), I jumped at this opportunity to grow as a cancer patient and experience a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It seemed like a win/win to me. 

I had told Grandma about the trip before she passed and we were both very excited. Then Grandma passed away unexpectedly and my whole world turned upside down. I was overwhelmed with emotions and riddled with grief. Looking back now, I realize I was just running from how I was feeling deep down, which was sadness.

Post-Chemo Energy

January rolled around and I came off oral chemo. The surge of energy I got was amazing. Being the person I am, and most certainly like my grandmother, I dove right in and overdid it. From Jan 16th to Feb. 16th (the day I left for the trip) I had five days where I had nothing going on outside of work. I was actually double booked at one point. I felt I had to take advantage of the time I had between treatments where my energy would be up to do everything and see everyone, and cherish the moments by doing.

With the extra energy, I was also running. Not literally (I’m not crazy or my assistant principal at work), but metaphorically. I was running from feeling uncomfortable. Running from the grief of grandma passing. Running from the grief of surveying the damage cancer treatment left. Running from everything that’s perceived as negative emotions and feelings. Running my own personal ultramarathon away from myself, I stopped listening to my body and its needs, thus resulting in being rundown, exhausted, stressed, and overstimulated. To say that I was not in the best head space going into the trip would be an understatement.

Starting the Trip

When I went to leave on Thursday morning last week (Feb 16), there were 4 fresh inches of snow on the ground. I thought for sure my flight would be canceled or delayed so I only went to the airport an hour early, as it was a 5:30AM take off.  Continuing the theme of not slowing down or listening to my body, I got through security in about 30 minutes and walked right on to the plane. I boarded without getting out my anti-nausea meds from my carry-on, without filling up my water bottle, and before going to the bathroom.  With my heart still pumping from the continued stress of running from one thing right into the next, the pilot pulled the plane back shortly after I boarded so it could be de-iced. 

For some reason during de-icing, the plane kept being turned off and then back on. When the pilot finally started the engine, it was making a very loud sound like something was terribly wrong. Something must not have been wrong because he still took off. The silence that took over the plane was foreshadowing for my weekend ahead.

I don’t know what the pilot had to do, but it must have been important—because he was determined to make it to Chicago (where my layover was). It was a very turbulent trip, again resulting in extreme silence. In fact, It was so turbulent my arm rest went flying and I threw up. It really was not a good time. 

Even with an almost 45 minute delay to take off from Omaha, I still made my flight from Chicago to Marquette, Michigan. Which was an uneventful flight. It was on a “puddle jumper” plane as my husband and uncle call them. One side was a single seat, the other side across the aisle had two seats. After a smooth flight, I made it to Marquette.Then it was an hour drive to Au Train, Michigan in the Upper Peninsula where I was staying for the next few days.

Going Into the Trek

TNT has a shuttle bus that they picked about 6 of us up in. We headed towards the TNT Walden Institute. Still being uncomfortable and running from myself, I started asking my fellow participants all the questions about them, their cancer, anything. I was over-stimulated from my constant running and wanted them to be on my overstimulated journey with me. Luckily for me, my fellow participants saw through it and did not engage. 

This left me confused, lonely and lost. I had done such a good job of surrounding myself with people who would jump right on the overstimulation train with me that when I was encountered with people who wouldn’t, I took offense. To me, it meant they didn’t like me. I must have done something wrong, which meant I was somehow less than. I had to get these people to like me so that I could like myself.

Looking back, I was “dumping my shit on other people,” as Brené Brown would say. Instead of looking inward, sitting with and unpacking my discomfort, I was throwing it at everyone else. Luckily for me, I was with people who simply were not having it, and I had committed to disconnecting with the outside world while on the trip. I was forced to slow down and simply listen. 

At first, it was just listening to the sounds of Lake Superior crash on the rocky shore. Then to my fellow participants talking amongst themselves, while desperately trying to force myself into the conversation. Eventually the silence became louder through daily practices of waking with the sun, yoga and mindfulness. All the while I was barging into these spaces full force, demanding answers that I could only find within.

Husky Haven Kennels

On the first full day of the trek we went to Husky Haven Kennels. Husky Haven is the home of Kim Darst, Jean Pollock, and a young man whose name is escaping me. Together they run and operate an outfit where they take guests on adventures and tours with the purpose of educating the public on working dogs and funding Kim’s Iditarod sled-racing team. 

They taught us about the history of the Iditarod and all the challenges of completing the race. They showed us around the kennel, taught us about the sleds, and let us play with the dogs. They had us put the booties and harnesses on the dogs and then (the most exciting part) they took us for a run.

For the run, we went on a special sled that Kim designed. It’s a one-of-a-kind sled that allows participants to control the sled. It’s much like a driver’s ed car, as she too still has controls. Fitting to my theme of throwing myself at everything, of course I was the first one on. 

But Kim knew that the magic wasn’t just in being on the sled, but also in watching the joy of the dogs doing what they love. I, much like Kim, am a firm believer that being witness to others’ joy is a sacred and most beautiful thing in life. To help her participants experience witnessing others’ joy, she had us all ride backwards on a snowmobile while the dog team was running behind us. This setup allowed it so we could see the joyous dogs faces doing what they were born to do and love so much. Witnessing another soul engaging in its passion is magical and peaceful. It forced me to slow down. 

That’s the beautiful thing about Kim. While I’m unsure if she knows it or not, how she operates her facility is truly magnificent and focuses on cultivating an experience that forces one to slow down and look within. She takes groups of three out for one run at a time: each person has a well-defined role at each leg of the journey that everyone gets to experience. This also leaves time to explore her helicopter hanger garage, which is full of articles, mementos, and facts about her extraordinary life, and it presents us with a chance to connect with the dogs who are not racing. It was beautiful, moving, and fit right into the mission of TNT.

It was in fact so beautiful and moving I sponsored a dog named Tiger, shown below. He is six months old. He just tried out the harness for the first time last week and may someday run the iditarod. Much like me he is full of life, energy, and needing direction that he will only find when he slows down and listens.

After a night of an amazing, fresh and clean home-cooked meal, mindfulness practices, and using the sauna, the next morning was again spent (as I say) waking up with Jesus and the sun. No lights were allowed to be turned on in the morning until the sun woke up. The main floor of the home (built by Frank Lloyd Wright’s third and final apprentice) was lit with a crackling fireplace and candles until the sun naturally, peacefully, and slowly woke up the rest of the world and home.

“Slow Down To Go Fast”

David (one of the founders of TNT) was also on the trek and an early riser. It was during these mornings, when it was just the two of us awake, that I learned about TNT’s mission and the practice of mindfulness in depth. It was here I learned about a phrase his grandfather used, “slow down to go fast” and how to sit with uncomfortable feelings. At first I believed slowing down to go fast meant letting people come to me, but now I am realizing that it can also mean letting me come to myself, slowing down to actually figure out how I feel and then letting feelings be just that, feelings… and not actions. It’s such an all encompassing phrase, “slow down to go fast,” that I feel I’m going to be unpacking and learning about it for years to come. 

After another morning of mindfulness, yoga, and more delicious food, the group headed out for a snow shoeing adventure. We hiked throughout the forest in silence, practicing mindfulness and slowing down while quite literally still going fast. In this time I learned that to be an effective leader, I must keep pace and stay with everyone on the team, meeting others where they are instead of forcing them to join me. It is their choice, just as it is mine, to decide where I am at and what I am going to do. To form a real and lasting relationship, both parties must be open and ready, not just one person pulling or pushing another person along. 

I saw this quite literally at a stream in the forest that we had to pass. One of the guides stayed back and held out a hand for us participants to decide if we needed to grab it for support or not. He never forced his help on us. He simply gave us the option to decide if we needed his hand or not. And it was his own calculated choice to do so. He had his feet solidly under him so that he could hold out his hand and still be steady himself. After everyone was across he went back to the front to lead us once again. 

That evening continued with yoga and fun on an ice shelf over lake superior, another practice of mindfulness, time alone in the sauna, and another delicious clean fueling dinner. Everything done with intention, care, and love to the self so that we could be present in the moment, eventually being able to be present for others. 

Saying Our Goodbyes

The next morning, after the sun woke up the institute, yoga, mindfulness, and clean fueling food, we said our goodbyes to the beautiful space. Most of us headed to the airport while the rest stayed back for a later flight or drove to their own homes. Taking with us friendship, memories, and new tools/practices to love ourselves even more. 

After easy flights I am now home. I am decompressing. I am working at continuing to do, and be, and practice everything I learned on this amazing trek. I am inviting you to find your own version of going slow to go fast and healing from within so that you can be the best version of yourself. And as always I am signing off with one simple wish, for you to have a magical day.